


amantes sunt amentes

by HelloImOz



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Anal Sex, Emperor Victor, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, almost forgot those whoops, but like in a good way, idk if this fic helps or harms my Cool Classics Kid rep, its gay so I think helps, lol this is shit, uhhhh sex???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 12:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15606132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloImOz/pseuds/HelloImOz
Summary: "'Before you go,' the smooth, deep voice began, 'May I ask your name?' Yuuri swallowed, like, three separate times. He accidentally got saliva in his windpipe, but he didn't want to hack on the emperor, so instead he just answered the question in a gravelly voice as he struggled to even breathe.'Yuuri Katsuki. Goodbye, Caesar.'"---The one where a simple Greek falls in love with the most powerful man in the world.





	amantes sunt amentes

**Author's Note:**

> A few things going into this:  
> -this took a fucking year to write  
> -I'm so down to discuss any historical inaccuracies in here  
> -literally idk man we’re just pretending they spoke modern chinese and japanese in ye old china and japan bc im also a lazy classics kid and i dont wanna research i dont even wanna edit i wanna sleep  
> -also this was lowkey inspired by Hadrian and Antinous except the age are changed so it's not gross lol
> 
> some fun little anecdotes:  
> * Hispania was the Roman term for Spain  
> ** C’s in Latin are pronounced like K’s, and V’s are pronounced like W’s, so “Niciforovo” would be pronounced as “Nikiforowo.” Also, “Caesar” is pronounced “kai-zer” and was used as a part of every emperor’s title.  
> ***magister means teacher  
> ****if you want me to explain roman houses, you can go fuck yourself. (sorry ily i just really hate roman houses. The atrium is like a something idk but the impluvium is a big hole in the ground with a big hole in the ceiling right above it. It collects rainwater. Fascinating, right?
> 
> finally, this one doesn't have the special little star thing, but it's good to note that in ancient roman culture it was p acceptable for a rich guy to fuck another guy in the ass, but it was seen as demeaning to be fucked in the ass.

Yuuri remembered seeing the emperor for the first time when he was very young. His friend Phichit had told him that the army was back in Athens, and that there was a very pretty foreign man riding on a horse. The two ran back to the middle of the city to watch everyone greet the man with the long, shiny hair.

At the time, Yuuri didn't know who the man was. All afternoon Yuuri and Phichit watched him charm ladies and laugh with soldiers. They stayed and sat and admired the bright smile and social ease of the man until the sun began to set, when the two ran back home to their families. 

By sunrise, when Yuuri found Phichit and asked to go watch the man again, his friend had already moved on completely. The pretty foreigner was of no interest to the younger boy anymore, and so Yuuri agreed to go play something else.

-

The first time Yuuri actually talked to the emperor, he was a little bit older, but not by much. He was old enough to know that men couldn't be pretty and that the emperor's long hair was a display of strength. He was old enough to know that the foreigner was his ruler, an unstoppable symbol of power with a kind and benevolent heart. 

Yuuri was old enough to know that he was never supposed to speak to this force of nature.

Life in Athens was always exciting, especially now that it had become the favorite place of the new emperor. He claimed to love the art and culture, enjoying the refinement of it all, even as he lived like a common soldier. People all over the city spoke of him constantly, noticing and tracking everything he did. It was hard not to; Emperor Victorious Niciforovo was constantly roaming the streets, greeting citizens and experiencing life. It wasn't uncommon to see him.

So when Yuuri saw the emperor strolling down the street his house was on, he didn't think much of it. He glimpsed up at the man, made brief eye contact, and looked back down at his feet. He figured that the emperor would shrug him off and continue on his daily quest to greet every Athenian he passed. But when Yuuri walked straight into another pedestrian, that plan was shattered.

"I'm sorry! I didn't see anything in front of me. I'm so--" Yuuri stood up and went to offer his hand to the poor person whom he crashed into, but when he looked up he saw the smiling face of the emperor of Rome staring at him.

"It's no problem. It was my fault. I saw you walking and knew I must have a closer look." Yuuri's throat felt itchy and dry. He knew his face was heating and his cheeks must have been red and when the emperor wrapped his hands around them he thought the heat radiating off of them would cause a fire. The emperor leaned in and suddenly his friendly smile seemed predatory as his voice lowered to a whisper. "I don't regret it at all. It really is a lovely view from here."

Yuuri stood blankly and let the words rush through him, feeling them flow in the warm breath brushing his nose. What the hell...? Yuuri's eyes flicked desperately, trying to swallow down the entire visage in front of him. His vision was going too fast for his brain. Or maybe it was the reverse? Whatever it was, there was no connection between the two.

Slowly, Yuuri remembered how to think, and thought that the emperor was really pretty, and really young, and really more of a boy than a man at all, with young skin and soft hair, and that certainly explained how he could be so fucking pretty. The air rushed between the two bodies as the shorter took a frantic step back. 

"Thank you." Yuuri said, keeping his face expressionless and his tone empty. He couldn't be thinking these things about an emperor. Emperors were unattainable pictures of manliness, definitely not pretty boys who flirted with random citizens. It was probably treason for Yuuri to even consider this encounter flirting. "I must be going now. Sorry again."

As Yuuri tried to sidestep the emperor, he felt an arm grab his shoulder. His instinct told him to shake it off and run, but another part of him feared the punishment for disrespect to such a powerful figure. He could probably flay Yuuri’s family alive, and then make him eat their skin but only after it had been cooked so well and thoroughly that Yuuri didn’t recognize it was human skin, so when the emperor sat him down for a meal Yuuri would be entirely overwhelmed and confused and only notice at the end of the meal that there was a fingernail and then Victor would tell him and he would cry and--

"Before you go," the smooth, deep voice began, "May I ask your name?" Yuuri swallowed, like, three separate times. He accidentally got saliva in his windpipe, but he didn’t want to hack on the emperor, so instead he just answered the question in a gravelly voice as he struggled to even breathe.

"Yuuri Katsuki. Goodbye, Caesar." With that, he skedaddled. 

-

The first time the emperor called Yuuri by name wasn't even a full month later. One morning Yuuri heard his family speaking in another room with an unfamiliar voice. He dressed himself and followed the noise to the kitchen, where a well-dressed man and a soldier sat. Immediately, Yuuri’s fight or flight instinct told him to run back to his bedroom. He gritted his teeth and continued walked forward.

"He will return at least once for five years. The emperor has guaranteed his safety." Yuuri's mother nodded along as his father pulled her tighter to his side. The atmosphere seemed as tense and grave as a funeral for the wildly unpopular father of a powerful man. 

"And he will receive a good education?" Yuuri saw the soldier wince as his sister broke the silence. She and her mother had never cared much for the rules of Athenian women. Yuuri found it greatly amusing to watch them drive men to their breaking points. But today he worried a little for Mari. He didn’t want her to press these soldiers the wrong way.

"Yes, Yuuri will learn from the best teachers in Rome."

Yuuri froze. They were talking about him? What was that they said about the emperor? What the hell? Education? Five years? Wait, shit, five years? With the emperor? Hold on, just--

"No," Yuuri didn't even notice he was speaking, it felt like he was just breathing out his doubts. "No way the emperor called for me." 

The well-dressed man grinned and twisted in his seat to set his eyes on Yuuri. The attention of the room froze Yuuri to his place. He couldn’t even demand answers, just stand there, paralyzed by the situation. 

"There you are. Gather your things. We are leaving soon, and the emperor requested you ride with him,” the man explained. Yuuri smiled politely, hardly registering the noise at all. He left when the man pointed at the door.

Numbly, Yuuri assembled all his things and wrapping them in a cloth without processing his actions. It felt like he was walking in a dream he was already beginning to forget even before waking. When Yuuri came back to the kitchen, the soldier was standing.

The Katsuki family took turns hugging their fourth member goodbye. Mari told him to charm the emperor. His mother said to be himself. His father said to study hard. Yuuri laughed vaguely, hearing his voice like an actor in a play’s. 

They walked through the streets of Athens, passing people Yuuri grew up knowing and newcomers Yuuri would have watched and wondered about had he not been leaving for an entirely new city. Guess that’ll make me a newcomer.

The thought comforted him in a weird way. Anxiety was replaced with a hint of anticipation. New streets, new faces, new shops. It could be okay.

When they reached the port, Yuuri saw a magnificent boat filled with soldiers and cargo and elegant designs. The emperor still hadn't yet boarded; he was bidding Athenians farewell on the dock. Just as Yuuri reached him, he pulled away from kissing a woman's hand. 

It was fascinating how other people didn't seem nearly as nervous to talk to their ruler; he gave off a friendly air, Yuuri supposed. But Yuuri couldn’t just… do that. He couldn’t look at such a powerful man and see a friendly smile and just talk to the man. That was impossible!

As if he sensed the thoughts, the emperor turned and bounded over to Yuuri. He went from jumping like a puppy to smiling like a model, and he grabbed the pale boy's hand and brought it to his lips, just as he had moments before with that woman's. "I'm glad you're coming to Rome with me."

Yuuri felt his face turning red again. He dragged his eyes away from the elder's face and focused on the water gently lapping at the base of the boat. Yuuri had always heard his parents remark that the ocean in Greece was one of the most beautiful in the world. He wondered how it would compare to the rivers of Rome.

Before the emperor could attempt to make any more conversation, he and his companion were ushered onto the boat by the well dressed man who had come to pick up Yuuri. Once on the boat, the soldiers began to pull in the ropes and set the sail. The swinging men and ropes and boom and other boaty thingies forced Yuuri to sit down on the corner of the deck, praying to not be hit by anything. He secretly feared a single strike would knock him overboard.

The emperor plopped himself down without any semblance of grace, and for a minute or two they sat in silence. Yuuri couldn’t watch the sea or the boat or anything else because he was so tense. His brain was screaming in too much panic to even zone out while Yuuri sat next to the most powerful man in the world.

"The sea here reminds me of my home," the emperor remarked. Yuuri swallowed down and finally brought his eyes to his face and studied it was a quizzical expression. His home? But I thought--

"I'm from Hispania* originally. I grew up with a sea like this. I miss it so much sometimes." 

As he spoke, Yuuri watched the emperor' eyes and noticed how much their shade of blue matched the ocean they had both called home. Suddenly their shade changed as they looked into Yuuri's and reflected his dark brown irises. The boyish-ness of the emperor's face was noticeable once again and Yuuri found himself entranced as the older teen leaned up against his side. Yuuri’s breath stuttered in his throat.

"You're going to love Rome, Yuuri."

Somehow, maybe it was the use of his name or the newly discovered common ground or the easy physical contact, Yuuri found himself feeling safe. He let his muscles relax and felt his head fall on top of the one on his shoulder. As he felt the wind shuffle his black hair around, Yuuri brought himself to finally speak.

"I think I might just."

-

The first time Yuuri called the emperor by his name was a little over a year later. Once they arrived in Rome, Yuuri was taken to the emperor's home and slowly he began to feel comfortable calling the man by his familial name, Niciforovo**. After all, it was respectful to refer to him directly, as long as Yuuri remembered to add the Caesar in front of it.

Learning the Roman traditions was tricky, but Yuuri found the culture to be almost similar to the one he came from. The language was very different to Greek, but Yuuri was good with languages. He grew up speaking both Greek and the language of the place his parents had come from. Latin was tricky to pick up, but with help from a good teacher it was perfectly manageable.

And Yuuri not only had a good teacher, he had the smartest scholars in all of a Rome at a whim. They taught him philosophy and history and poetry and Latin and all sorts of interesting things that made Yuuri focus less on homesickness and more on the wonders of humanity. He even got to meet more brilliant young minds through group classes.

There were boys from all over the empire all gathered in a Rome to learn. Yuuri got to hear stories about Germania from a young man named Cristophe. A boy named Leo told Yuuri more about Hispania, the province Caesar Niciforovo was from. There was even a guy named Guang-Hong whose father was a merchant from a land near where the Katsuki family came from. (He and Yuuri tried comparing languages and found them to sound quite different. He could almost read Guang-Hong’s writing however!)

Even though his studies were mind-blowing and the culture was captivating, Yuuri found one of his favorite parts of Rome to be coming home in the evening. At dusk every day Yuuri would eat his dinner with Caesar Niciforovo and the two would discuss their days between stuffing their faces with food.

The emperor always had fanciful tales of the luxurious, adventurous things he did while Yuuri shared whatever he learned that day. Some nights the emperor couldn't make it to dinner because he was off fighting in a battle or checking in on a different province of the empire, but most of the time he sat and listened dutifully to whatever his friend had to say. Sometimes other guests joined the two and the air during those dinners felt a little different, but it was still pleasant.

Some nights, after the dinner was finished, if neither of the two was quite tired, or when both weren't quite done talking, they would continue to sit in the dining room, lounging on the soft couches, and keep talking. The emperor would ask how Yuuri silly questions and the younger would giggle and ask even sillier things in turn. 

As the night went on, the words the two exchanged became less and less serious and more things said just to break a laugh. Caesar Niciforovo would ask Yuuri what type of plant he’d be, and Yuuri would say a rock just to watch the emperor laugh. They would slowly draw nearer and nearer on the couch, leaning in and giggling.

One night Caesar Niciforovo made Yuuri laugh so hard he fell onto the older's lap. Once the fit was over, the boy realized where he was and sat up while his friend gave him a funny look. The man was still smiling, but his eyes seemed distanced and glassy. Yuuri panicked instantly knowing it must've been something he did.

"I'm sorry, Caesar, I didn't mean--" The silver haired man gently raised a hand, signaling the other to stop.

"Yuuri, I must ask," he began, speaking very slow Latin, so as to make sure the foreigner could piece together the words in his head. "Why do you not call me by my given name?"

The question left Yuuri stuttering. "I, uh." He vaguely noticed he was answering in a Greek, but the emperor seemed to still be following along. "It's awfully... personal, isn't it?"

"Sure it is. But we're good friends, are we not?"

Here Yuuri paused. Were they? Well, they did eat together, and laugh, and Yuuri certainly knew the emperor better than anyone else in this foreign city.

But that was the exact problem. He knew the emperor. Caesar Niciforovo wasn’t just any old friend, he was the emperor. Every time Yuuri thought of the title he shivered. He couldn’t just call the emperor of Rome by his first name! That’s impossible! Yuuri’s heart would simply explode.

"But you're the emperor!" he insisted in sloppy Latin. The words left his mouth and Yuuri suddenly regretted ever speaking. His friend's facial expression soured and Yuuri quickly dropped his eyes to his lap and slumped inward.

"Yuuri." The way he said it was gentle and firm, like the hands that reached out and grabbed the black haired boy's chin seconds later and directed his gaze back onto the emperor. The boy let his face be moved but couldn't control the stuttering, panicked breaths he began to take in and release. The emperor pretended not to notice. "Is that really all you think of me?"

It was a sentence spoken in slow Greek, but still Yuuri couldn't understand it. All I think of him?

Yuuri pictured Caesar Niciforovo in his mind. He saw a smiling man kissing ladies’ hands and charming men. He saw a powerful man in colorful, extravagant robes. But most importantly, Yuuri saw a smiling face and long legs and pale arms grazing Yuuri’s sides, or a tipsy man tripping up the stairs to his room, or a boy laughing at Yuuri’s jokes.

"Uh, no, no. Never." Yuuri's mouth was running and his mind was racing to catch up with it. "I think of you as...."

"As what?" The hand clenched tighter on his chin, just a little bit. It wasn't painful, but it made the smaller body jolt upwards just a little. Instinctively the hands started to pull back, and the emperor was leaning back and sighing and Yuuri found himself leaping over to close the forming distance. 

Next thing he knew the emperor's solid chin was forming a crease in his palms and eyes the color of Greek waters were stretched wide in front of Yuuri's face. The Japanese boy still felt like he was gasping for breath but now he knew that the emperor couldn't dive in and save him if he didn't even know Yuuri was drowning. 

"I see you as yourself." He took a deep breath and let go of the tension in his mind. "I see you as... Victorius."

The smile that broke across the elder's face was the happiest Yuuri had ever seen him. The emperor pulled him into his arms and there they sat, in that very position, for a very long time.

And on this one rare occasion, Yuuri was okay with not spending all night talking to Victorius.

-

The first time Yuuri really realized that he could have romance in his life was a few years later. 

Victorius was having guests over for dinner one night. It was a man, Micelus, and his younger sister, Saara, whom he was very proud of. The meal started off with the guest simply bragging about all the things his sister had done; Yuuri watched as he beamed and she scowled, but said nothing to the ecstatic man. Eventually Victorius somehow lured him into discussing business.

This left Saara and Yuuri as alone as two people could be at a table of four. The two happened to be about the same age and slowly started to make a conversation together. She was pleasant to talk to, Yuuri soon noticed. It was obvious she was well educated, and she was thrilled to discover he spoke Greek and kept trying to practice her knowledge of the language on him.

Before long, the girl and the boy were joking and having fun together. They sat on a couch together while her brother and Yuuri's friend shared another across the room. Saara scooted closer to her newfound companion and Yuuri hardly noticed the lack of space between them, focusing instead on the bright life and sharp wit of the young lady beside him. 

They were getting louder and louder and closer and Yuuri was leaning in to whisper the punch line to a particularly scandalous joke when he was grabbed and pulled back harshly. He looked up to see Micelus fuming and suddenly realized how it must've look. 

His face burned with the shame of being caught doing something wrong; Yuuri despised when Victorius brought others over for dinner because Yuuri always made a fool of himself somehow. Before he could open his mouth and apologize, or even scooch down on the couch, Micelus started shouting.

"What were you doing with my sister?" The man was presumably powerful, if he was meeting with Victorius directly. He wasn't much taller than Yuuri, but where the Japanese boy ran a little pudgy, Micelus was ripped and slender all the way through.

"Oh, no! I'm so, so sorry. I wasn't intending to--" Yuuri's face was bright red and he saw Saara try to shove Micelus away to no avail. Oh, gods, this was a disaster. Yuuri tried to defuse the situation by patting Saara lightly on the arm to calm her down, but Micelus just got even angrier.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure you weren't!" The tall, muscley Roman man raised his arm and curled his fist, preparing to strike. Yuuri himself was preparing to be struck, when suddenly a pale hand came to rest on Micelus’ shoulder. Everything froze in that moment. Somehow a simple touch was more destructive and absolute than any violent threat could ever be.

"Now now, let's not start a fight." The expression on Victorius' face was pleasant, and his tone was sweet, but something seemed off. Some part of the sentence made it quite clear that if Micelus moved his fist an inch closer to Yuuri's face, he'd pay for it with something more extreme than a single blow to the face.

Micelus backed away, but treated the emperor cooly for the rest of the night and refused to take his eyes off the younger two of the four. Saara shrugged the entire incident off and before long started laughing loudly and inching closer to Yuuri, but the Japanese boy was still so startled from her brother's reaction the first time he avoided any and all contact. He tried to keep up the conversation with her, but found himself retreating into a shell. By the end of the night, he was leaving Saara with awkward gaps in the conversation where he struggled to find any words to say.

On the way out the door, Saara grabbed Yuuri's arm and pulled his ear to her mouth. "Thank you so much for the conversation. Don't mind my brother." Yuuri wanted to flinch away from the moist warmth of her breath, but she pulled back first. "See you around!" And with a wink, Saara was dragged away by Micelus.

Yuuri stood in the doorway, trying to process what exactly had just happened. Was she... flirting? That couldn’t be possible, right? Who followed their brother to a business meeting and flirted with the emperor’s sidekick? No way. Saara must have just been very friendly.

"Well she was cute!" Victorius sounded far too cheery for someone who had just possibly ruined a connection with a very important figure. Then again, the emperor had done weirder. Yuuri tried to keep this in mind as the man came and draped himself over the younger's shoulders and placed his mouth near Yuuri's ear, as Saara had done only minutes ago. "Say, Yuuri, do you like like her?"

The gentle, deep, masculine voice caught in the space between a breathy whisper and regular speaking made Yuuri want to shiver. The words almost didn't process in his mind for a minute as he felt a surge of fiery heat rise from his toes through his spine. All he could do was feel vibrations for a minute, before he realized that he had a question to answer.

"Um, no! No way! I most definitely do not like her!" Yuuri's body tensed in his haste to deny the claims, almost forcing the taller to jump away from his body, but the Greek slumped over just in time to keep him on his body. The way Victorius' fingers danced on Yuuri's chest and the way he wrapped his chin around Yuuri's neck felt teasing, like they didn't believe the nay-saying falling from his lips. Yuuri never wanted them to leave.

"Mhm. I'm sure you don't." Victorius kept up his teasing stance and whisper-talking for just a second longer, before gently pushing himself away from the other and coming to stand directly in front of him instead. "It's okay to like girls, Yuuri! They're pretty! And cute!"

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Victorius, do you like like any girls?" For the first time in forever, the younger saw the true innocence and youth splash across his emperor's face in the form of a light pink blush. The ocean blue eyes darted away from Yuuri's face and focused intently on the floor beneath him.

"Uh, no. Not at the moment." Now it was Yuuri's turn to tease his friend. He stepped closer and closer to Victorius and took his chin in one hand, wrapping his other arm around the back of his neck, pinning their bodies together. Yuuri tried his hardest to make his voice emit the same slightly raspy, mischievous sound Victorius had been emitting earlier.

"Are you sure?" Victorius gulped.

"Absolutely."

"Really?" Yuuri let his fingers lightly run up and down the emperor's neck and watched the man shake slightly. "Because that doesn't look like an honest face." 

Victorius' face flashed bright red. He suddenly he shoved Yuuri off of him and took in a deep breath. He fell into a coughing fit and Yuuri's initial amusement at the teasing quickly turned into regret.

"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up? Victorius? Please don't die! Oh, gods...." The silver haired man held up a hand to silence the anxious rambling. Then, he started to laugh. Cerulean eyes looked up and were filled with tears, and just as Yuuri was about to check on the man and apologize even more, he felt a laugh bubble out of him.

And before Yuuri even found out what was so funny, he and Victorius were laughing hysterically in the doorway. They stood and howled like maniacs until their knees buckled and they had to lean on each other for support. 

One of them collapsed to the ground and the other followed, and so they sat on the ground, still chuckling. The laughter was a fit and once it began to die down, the two would exchange looks and it would rise back up again, swallowing all the air from their throats.

When the fit finally started to actually go down, Victorius slapped Yuuri on the shoulder. He used the shorter male as a prop to help him stand and offered his hand back once he was up. Pulling the boy to his feet, Victorius then pulled Yuuri in close and mimicked the exact pose Saara had him in before she left, with the emperor's mouth at the boy's ear.

"No, Yuuri, I do not like like a girl. But," the world stilled as Yuuri found himself gasping slightly, "you never mentioned boys."

And with that, the emperor untangled their limbs and strolled off, leaving Yuuri alone in a quiet hallway. It was dark, and Yuuri could almost hear the bugs outside, and he felt like he was in a trance, wandering back to his room that night.

-

The first time Yuuri saw the emperor as more than just a friend was about an hour later. Or, well, Yuuri saw him as something different than a friend, but something different than some sort of heartless authoritative figure also. That night was when Yuuri saw the emperor as someone who could lay a romantic role in his life. 

As Yuuri lay in his bed he mulled over the night and it's events. He was still shocked at being flirted with by Saara and her soft hands and hair and smiles. Yuuri couldn’t even begin to make out anything of Victorius' antics.  
Yuuri couldn’t believe he played along. Gods, why would he do that?! That was so embarrassing. Yuuri had to fight not to cover his face even though nobody else was in the room with him to judge. Just the memory of his bold, confident actions was enough to make his face burn.

Yuuri remembered the emperor's movements and almost felt them on his skin again. It made him want to shiver and move closer, but then he'd remember there was nothing he could move closer to. The air was warm in the summer night, but it felt so freezing to realize he was all alone.

If only Victorius were there, lying side by side with Yuuri, leaning in and--

Yuuri felt his body jerk forward, as if he was being pulled upon by a leash roped around his running mind. Where was that sentence going to end? 

Though the Greek knew exactly what that thought would be ended with, he pretended there was a way to withhold the truth from himself. He professed his innocence to the empty darkness in his room, ignoring the nudge of his brain. 

But still, he felt his damn subconscious whispering the words over and over again. 

There was no way he was going to sleep, so Yuuri sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. He felt the mild air and squinted into the dark until he could see the entire room. He didn't mean to, but Yuuri found his mind reflexively running over the night just so it could think of something.

It was no shock that Victorius would like a boy. That was natural, that was fine. Yuuri would expect nothing less from the emperor, who could have anyone he wanted at all. But the way his voice dipped down and the way he breathed the words in Yuuri's ear made his brain hurt. It felt like there was meaning there, but....

Surely he couldn't... Victorius wouldn't mean.... But then...?

"Who is it?" Yuuri said, softly letting the words swim out of his mouth and wade in the still night air. Crickets chirped like they were screaming names and answers over one another. But beside them, the silence was the only thing Yuuri could hear. Not a definite answer, not Victorius' voice calling for a mystery man, nothing but the silence. 

Yuuri let it brew. He let the question keep repeating in his mind. He let the suspects play across the blank canvas in his brain. He let the thoughts all come and tap his shoulders, tap on his hands, pull at his fingers pinch at his face, claw into his skin. He let it all happen until his patience broke.

And when his patience broke, Yuuri let is shatter into a million pieces. He let his mind fall with the shards. He could hear himself screaming in agony and choked on the sobs of frustration trying to make it out of his throat. He felt like a hunter gone mad on the search for a mythical creature. He wished Diana to take pity on his soul. 

Yuuri's heart was groaning and whining and it took him almost a hour of breaking down for him to realize why. 

He could never imagine Victorius wanting him but....

But…

But that's all he want from him. He wanted him.

And Yuuri needed Victorius to want him back. 

The silence was quiet for the first time that night, with his brain and heart and body and throat all moving in unison. They all seemed to sigh and say, "Yes, that's it. That makes sense. That is good." 

Yuuri felt so calm for having the most terrifying realization of his life.

It was safe to love the emperor as a citizen, to admire his strength and charisma and beauty. It was safe to love him deeply as a brotherly figure who brought Yuuri across the sea to a beautiful new world. It was safe to love him as a friend, someone who could talk with Yuuri about crushes and assholes and just their days, someone who could laugh with him for hours.

It was terribly dangerous to love Victorius as a lover. 

It was painful to want his lips on Yuuri's neck and his arms wrapped around his body. It was bad and the worst thing a Greek boy from Athens could've done to himself. It was the worst thing he could do to the man who changed his life, but, Yuuri considered, the most reasonable. It only made sense.

Senseless or sensible, though, made no matter in the game of love. Desire burned Yuuri's body as he thought of the things they did that night in a new way. 

Now when he thought of Victorius' body on his back, Yuuri wanted to grind into it. He imagined wrapping his arm around Victorius' neck and holding his chin and smashing their mouths together. Yuuri wished he nudged his thigh in between Victorius' legs and rubbed roughly against his dick.

The young man let his hands slowly run down his body, from his chest down to his penis. He brushed his hands lightly across the skin on his lower belly and the tops of his thighs. Yuuri lightly brushed his fingertips over his growing erection, before gripping it and moving his hand up and down.

Yuuri had done this before when the need presented itself. He was a normal teenage boy, after all. But this was the first time he let himself think of someone he knew, someone that his heart truly desired rather than just a faceless body. 

Yuuri let himself think of Victorius. He imagined silver hair ticking his head, his chin, his chest, his dick. He imagined reaching out and feeling pale, smooth skin rife with muscles. Yuuri could hear the moans falling from his imaginary partner's mouth, the praises and cuss words coming through in Latin, Greek, and whatever other language could be thrown into the equation. He had to bite his own arm to drown out his own wanton calls for the man a couple rooms down.

"Vic... A-ah! Victor--!" The whispered moans felt like screams that would wake up everyone in the house. Yuuri tried to catch his breath and he stared down his flaccid cock and the clear-ish, white-ish fluid coating his hands and lower body. His mind was too tired to clean, and so Yuuri prayed to the gods that no one would come into the room and see the mess before he himself could clean it.

\--

Yuuri found himself doubting every action he made in front of Victorius now. What was once natural became hard. Uh, pun not particularly intended, but not unwelcome.

Yuuri would see the man in passing and considered calling out and greeting the emperor, and then would second-guess himself and wonder if Victorius even wanted to be greeted in public by the lowly Greek boy or if perhaps that would cross some sort of boundary that Yuuri had never taken notice of, but still existed, and maybe just now Yuuri was finally learning his place and, gods, that was so terrifying! What if he’d been awful all this time?

He took a deep breath.

Yuuri could use his first name. Surely that meant something. Surely he could say hi every now and then. 

...Right? 

What if saying hi to Victiorius made his crush obvious? Then Victorius might think Yuuri was, like, obsessed with him or something, and that’d be horrendous! That’d be the worst case scenario! Or, at least, it would lead up to the worst case scenario where Victorius said Yuuri was disgusting and kicked him out of Rome-- no, he would kick Yuuri out of the empire! Yuuri would have no family, no friends, no--

Calm. Down.

Yuuri took several deep breaths. They didn’t help much, but he tried to convince himself they did.

Just as much as Yuuri found himself trying not to be overt with his romantic intentions, he found himself also being careful to tease the emperor and capture his attention constantly.

The more the Japanese thought back to that first night after the dinner with Micelus and Saara, the more Yuuri reasoned that Victorius acted the way he did for a reason. That Victorius touched him and whispered lowly, taunting Yuuri with information just out of his reach, with the knowledge of a crush with no face to put to the idea.

Perhaps, as arrogant and forbidden as the thought seemed, Victorius could, maybe, just possibly, have meant Yuuri.

Every time Yuuri considered that possibility, he had to pinch himself. He couldn’t dream too hard.

But Yuuri could flirt his damn lovesick heart out.  
So, while sometimes if they crossed paths in the forum, Yuuri would freeze and wait for Victorius to say his name and come bounding over, there were other times when Yuuri would look at the man's face and then turn and lean a little bit more into whatever schoolmate or friend was accompanying him through Rome that day. If he got the timing right, Yuuri could sneak a look at Victorius' face and see an expression that almost looked like... 

Well, jealousy.

Once, when Yuuri was walking with Saara to a lesson, he spied his dear friend and began to fall into the normal teasing actions. He touched her hands, grazed her arms, stared deeply into her eyes.

However, when he tried to lean his head on Saara's shoulders, she quickly snatched his arms and pulled him onto her, sealing their mouths in a kiss. Yuuri felt the breath get knocked out of him. He tried desperately to pull away from the girl but then he felt Saara tap lightly on his arm, as if saying "Focus. Do you want him to see or not?"

He thought about it.

Yes.

He sure as hell did.

Yuuri let himself melt into her mouth. His arms circled around her waist and she put her hands on the back of his neck. He tried not to think of how similar the position was to the one he held Vitcorius in the night he met Saara. 

Just as Yuuri was truly starting to feel comfortable, and even a little giggly, with the kiss, he was pulled off Saara; his first reaction was flinching in fear of Saara's possessive older brother, but when the Greek brought his eyes to focus on the man who pulled him back, it was none other than Victorius. The pale man raised a single silver eyebrow.

"Hello, Caesar Niciforovo!" Saara chirped. She looked extremely pleased with herself, and Yuuri could see why; underneath the cool, judging look the emperor was bestowing onto the two, there was a look of slight hurt and frantic-ness swimming the ocean of his eyes. Before Yuuri could bask in it for much longer, the man's face broke out in the carefully trained smile he gave when he wasn't pleased at all.

"You better be running off now, young lady. I don't think Micelus would like it very much if you skipped class." Victorius wrapped his arm around Yuuri's shoulders and pulled him in close to his side. "I'm afraid Yuuri will be coming with me right now. I need him to do something very important at the house. Do tell the magister***, okay? Bye bye!" 

And with that, the silver haired man yanked Yuuri off the girl and pulled him through the crowd. They walked in silence till they reached the house, Victorius setting a breakneck speed. Once they reached the less crowded hill where the emperor's house was, the smile dropped from his face. Yuuri thought he had never seen him frown so deeply, those blue eyes so full of worry.

It was kind of hot, in a twisted way.

When they got into the entry of the palace, Victorius dropped Yuuri's arm, which he had begun to grab and yank at during their walk. He ran his hands over his face, like he was trying to stretch the skin to fit his throbbing brain better. Yuuri opened his mouth to apologize, or to yell angrily, or to say, like, something at all, but found he didn't have anything to say.

Now the insecurity was creeping in on him. His throat felt like it was closing, like there were too many exposing apologies to speak at once. Yuuri didn’t know what to do, so he watched Victorius sigh and turn on his heel.

Victorius walked into the main room, and so Yuuri followed.

Victorius walked through the atrium****, and so Yuuri followed.

Victorius sat down next to the impluvium, and so Yuuri sat down next to him. 

He let the silence wash over them and actually began to feel ashamed. The quiet was so unnerving; Victorius was never usually like this. It was terrifying. He could picture it now, the worst case scenario:

Victorius would grab his hand, sigh again, and tell him he had to go back. Yuuri had to leave that instant. Victorius didn’t care where, he just had to be gone.

That thought stung the most, Yuuri realized. The worst case scenario was never being exiled, it was being uncared for. It was the emperor finally waking from his trance and realizing that a simple Greek boy could never be the other half to a royal. His breathing picked up.

"Yuuri," Victorius said, his voice quiet and wounded. He was still frowning but wasn't looking at his companion. Yuuri tried to make eye contact but he couldn't grab the emperor's attention. 

"Yes?"

"What... were you doing with Saara?"

"That's a good question." He actually didn't know how to answer.

Should he tell the truth? What even was the truth? That he was a pining, lovesick, jealous fool? A fool who wanted to make Victorius feel even a pinch of the infinite pain his heart does?

Yuuri found he could not speak to Victorius, for the first time, in neither Greek nor Latin.

There weren’t any words to describe his thoughts, his bitter rage, and his bitter satisfaction. Yuuri had no way to tell Victorius how sorry he was, but how he wouldn’t take it back at all. 

Victorius could burn and suffer with the ache of unrequited love, or shame, or pity, or whatever. Yuuri didn’t care so long as it hurt.

For a minute, Yuuri lost himself in the rage. He dug his nails into his thigh and squeezed his eyes shut. Was this what he’d do? Insult the emperor to his face and pray for mercy? 

Yuuri felt a flick of water wet his thumb. He watched the droplet fall down off his hand, touching the floor and vanishing into the shadows. No. Yuuri couldn’t do that to Victorius. Sweet, kind, loving Victorius.

Words were a losing battle, but Yuuri could work around them. He just needed a little luck and a little faith on his side.

And he was certainly lucky indeed when he turned his head to the side and caught Victorius staring at him, eyes wide and blue and wild and glassy with tears already building with the fear of heartbreak. Yuuri felt something settle in his soul. This man, this life, was so lucky; Yuuri was so lucky.

He was luckier still when he could reach out and touch his lips to Victorius’.

\--

The first time Yuuri and Victorius shared a bed had been years before. One night Victorius stumbled back home from some rich Roman's estate, completely hammered off the finest wines available. He had barged into Yuuri's room without knocking.

"Yuuri," he slurred, apparently ignorant of the fact that Yuuri was extremely asleep. "Yuuri, talk to me. I miss you," he whined into the silent room. The Greek began to stir awake.

Just before Yuuri could fully comprehend his settings, Victorius flopped down on the bed right next to him. His limbs were flailing about, jabbing into Yuuri's sides and bringing him back to consciousness a lot less gradually then he generally preferred.

"Victorius," he moaned, "stop." His voice was sleepy and whispery, but Victorius froze like it had burned him. It was very still and very quiet and very warm and Yuuri could hear the steady, even breaths coming from the am next to him and the darkness persuaded him to shut his eyes and as he drifted away, back into his dreams, he suddenly got a lot warmer as a certain emperor wrapped himself around Yuuri.

Yuuri immediately stiffened and tried to be panicked, angry even. He really tried to think rationally and push Victorius off, but also Yuuri's brain was not really having that. In fact, Yuuri's brain was quite into the idea of just letting it all happen, and feeling the hot, smooth skin against his arms and his torso. Yeah.

Thoughts distantly screamed at him, but honestly, Yuuri was completely content to fall asleep.

Waking up that morning was a bit of an emotional roller coaster for Yuuri, but ultimately he didn't regret the decision nearly as much as he thought he would've. From then, Victorius crept into his bed on lonely drunken nights, or sometimes been lonely sober nights, and Yuuri would let himself be held till the morning.

After the kiss, though, it became more and more frequent.

Every night after dinner, after their laughing and joking and talking and kissing, Victorius would lead the way down the hallway, slowing down on,y when he reached Yuuri's room. He would hesitate there, standing by the entrance with an open mouth, like he wanted to ask Yuuri if tonight he wanted to get away, to escape from the emperor, to be free from his loving arms.

Yuuri would keep striding forward, taking no note of his own room. As if, he would think. Victorius could worry about being clingy and demanding all he wanted, but Yuuri knew from the second their lips first met that he would never love again.

So Yuuri would march to Victorius' room like he was a general in battle. He would strip to his underclothes like it was hand to hand combat, and he would sink down on the cushiony bed like a body being laid to rest.

Within seconds, Victorius would be on him. Innocent touches covered Yuuri's body, kisses to the back of his neck, to his cheek. Victorius wrapped his arm all the way around him and laid his hand gently on Yuuri's stomach pudge. He never commented on the excess of fat, but he would gently run his hand over it soothingly.

"Sweet dreams," Victorius wished him every night, seconds before Yuuri's world faded to black.

Seconds later, though, Yuuri blearily opened his eyes. The room was darker than it had been just before he closed his eyes. Yuuri yawned softly and determined it must have been a few hours, before letting his eyes drift shut again. Why did he even wake up in the first place?

A nudge to his back reminded him.

It was a gentle enough push, but it didn't feel like Victorius was using his hands, rather his whole body. Maybe it was a fluke. Yuuri waited a few seconds.

The nudge came again. Yuuri rolled over to confront his love.

There, three inches from Yuuri's face, was the emperor, with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth gently parted. He was mumbling indistinctly, changing his tone and pitch, shortening the noises until they sounded like--

A few things hit Yuuri at once.

For starters, he just finally realized that the combination of panting and nonsense blubbering sounded quite sexual from Victorius' mouth.

The second thing to sink in was the insistent poking of Yuuri's thigh. Except no finger was poking him. It was, uh, something... something else.

His face burned bright red and Yuuri immediately jumped backwards. He'd just spend the night over here, then, on the other side of the bed, far away from Victorius and his personal dreams. Yes. That'd be fine. That'd be lovely. He turned around again, facing the opposite wall and pretending nothing had happened.

"Yuuri?" A voice called into the night. Victorius' tone was soft, a little scratchy and deep with sleep. Yuuri had to ignore how that sound made him feel. He slowly rolled over yet again.

"Uh," he stuttered, "hi, Victorius!" It was tangibly awkward. "Um, how are you sleeping? Well? Sleep well!" Yuuri was spouting incoherent nonsense. His brain had shut off. Instead all of his blood was rushing south.

Victorius fixed him with a sleepy gaze. "Mmm," he hummed in agreement, clearly just as out of it. "You're really pretty." Yuuri blushed even harder than he already was, caught in the weirdly perfect space between smitten and lustful. Victorius' hand came up and cupped Yuuri's face.

"Thank yo--"

"I bet your cock is even prettier."

Yuuri wheezed. The comment was so unexpected, it gave him whiplash.

Gods, he couldn't even see straight anymore. His eyes must have crossed because suddenly Victorius' face was a misshapen blur. Yuuri didn't know where his blood was rushing, but it was going way too fast for Yuuri to be anywhere near calm.

He sat there, coughing and dazed, shaking violently, while Victorius still just held his face and smiled softly. "Mm, you're so cute, my Yuuri," he commented, watching the Greek finally start to gather his composure. "I want to drink your cum like it's the finest wine. I'll swish it around in my mouth, making sure I really love the taste, before I decide to take it down my throat."

"Victorius," Yuuri squeezed out weakly, "stop saying things like that."

The emperor cocked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well, because!" Yuuri paused to gather his composure. Damn his blushy face and prude nature. For not the first time, Yuuri wished he had the disposition of other Greeks, the ones who engaged in constant orgies. Surely they'd be less awkward. "It makes me feel things."

Victorius chuckled, swinging a leg over his partner's hip. He slowly rose on top of the other man, before leaning down to whisper in Yuuri's ear. "Darling," he began, "that's the point."

Yuuri shivered right as Victorius managed to sneak his thigh in between Yuuri's legs. Every brain cell left that was still functioning begged him to pull away. Surely there was something wrong with this. Yuuri couldn't quite put his finger of it, but it seemed wrong, illicit, forbidden. It made his heart race with anxiety.

But then Yuuri saw Victorius' eyes, sharp and focused, no longer clouded with sleep, trained on his face, and he everything slowed for a second. In the midst of the storm of emotions, Victorius smiled, and Yuuri gave in.

"Please," he begged. "Touch me, Victorius."

Victorius reached a hand down and pulled off Yuuri's undergarments. His leather underwear disappeared into the darkness when it was flung across the room, and watching it's graceful arc distracted Yuuri from the task on hand so much that he nearly jumped when he felt Victorius' hand on his cock.

Yuuri let out the beginning of a loud moan before snapping his jaw shut in embarrassment. He tried to keep his mouth firmly closed, but Victorius quickly stopped all his motions.

"Yuuurrriiiiiiii," he dragged out. "Don't be quiet. I know you can be loud." Victorius slowly started moving his hand again, running it up and down Yuuri's cock. "I want to hear my little Greekling scream."

Right on cue, Yuuri's mouth opened and he let out a long groan, unable to even hold it back. Victorius hummed in response, clearly pleased with the sound. He took his hands off his lover's body briefly and began to take off his ow undergarments. Yuuri just stared up at the beautiful man, entranced.

"How are we going to do this?" he asked as Victorius launched his own underwear across the room. The emperor then crawled back over his lover, gently brushing his fingers through Yuuri's hair.

"Mm, however you want," he cooed, lowering himself down so he lied on top of the Greek. Yuuri was thankful for the dark so his partner couldn't see the bright pink flush spilling off his cheeks and running down his neck.

"Uh, Victorius, I'm uh," he paused to clear his throat. Yuuri's voice was cracking all over the place. "I'm not quite, er, experienced...?" He didn't mean for it to come out as a question but it did. Victorius paused from sucking on the younger's neck. He pulled himself back up to a seated position.

"Oh." Victorius stared at Yuuri. The Greek felt himself flushing even further, completely overwhelmed by the tense air in the room and the gaze of the attractive man. He really couldn't tell what the emperor was thinking. Victorius jumped up off the bed suddenly, startling his lover. "That's fine! I'll just have make your first time so good you'll only ever want to have sex! Preferably with me!"

When he settled back down, he was holding a tube of olive oil. He opened the vial and poured some on his fingers. Yuuri closed his eyes and braced for the sensation of fingers near his hole, but was surprised when they never came. Instead, he heard soft pant from Victorius.

Yuuri opened his eyes to see the emperor of Rome fingering his own asshole.

Yuuri sputtered, completely lost for words. Victorius pried open one of his eyes and smiled gently, still out of breath. Just the sight alone made Yuuri's dick twitch.

"Heh, this way it can be a first for the both of us," Victorius explained. Yuuri had to restrain every muscle in his body from throwing himself at his lover. Instead he smiled back and took the emperor's cock in his hand. He got a loud keen in response.

"That's it," Yuuri cooed. "Prepare yourself nicely for me. Doesn't it feel good?" Victorius moaned loudly, his hand stilling for a moment. Yuuri stopped his motion in response. "Come on, keep moving. Don't you want to get to the good stuff?"

Victorius began moving his fingers again, slowly adding more and more while his lover encouraged him on. Eventually he pulled his hand away and crawled closer to the Greek.

"Please, Yuuri," he begged. "I need you." The want was apparent in Victorius' eyes as he panted the words out. Suddenly, Yuuri felt lost again, like a blushing bride without a hint of the confidence he'd had moments ago.

"Uh, um," Yuuri stuttered blankly, lost in the oceans in Victorius' eyes. He saw his home in Greece, the trip over. He thought of the Tiber in Rome, with it's murky waters and citizens wandering all along its sides.

Yuuri thought of all the dazzling people in this city, and he realized the most beautiful of all was right in front of him. The handsomest, most charming man in the empire was begging on his hands and knees for Yuuri's cock. Who was he to deny him?

Yuuri willed his nerves away and smirked. He took Victorius' hand and pushed him down onto the bed, face up and eyes glimmering. Without an ounce of hesitation, Yuuri rammed his dick into Victorius, and watched as those sparkling eyes squeezed shut and his pink lips spread into a wide o.

"Yes! So good," Victorius said. "Please, Yuuri, more! Please!"

Yuuri hesitantly rocked his hips and got quite the enthusiastic response in return, so he began to move with more force and more confidence. He shallowly thrusted, gaining speed and traction when suddenly he slipped a little and Victorius let out a particularly loud moan.

"Right there!" He hoarsely screamed. Yuuri obeyed the command, picking up the pace and drilling the same spot over and over until Victorius was a sobbing mess.

"Are you close, my love?" Yuuri asked. "This is the prettiest I've ever seen you: spread out and flushed, crying for my cock. Cum for me, Victorius."

The words sounded stiff to his own ears, and they were breathlessly spoken, but they seemed to have the desired effect when Victorius spilled mere seconds later. The way his ass tightened with the orgasm caught Yuuri off guard! and he came immediately after.

Slowly, Yuuri pulled his dick out and rolled onto his back next to his lover. Victorius immediately curled into his side, wrapping his arms around his partner and nuzzling his neck.

"How was it?" Yuuri whispered, basking in the warmth of his lover and the coolness of the evening.

"Mm," Victorius hummed sleepily. "It was worthy of the gods."

**Author's Note:**

> ...aaaaaaand this is the part where I don't acknowledge that Yuuri will drown in the Nile a few years down the line!! at least good ol Victorius will found a cult for his dead lover so. there's that.
> 
> this is a culmination of my love for this ship, my shitty writing, and my undying passion for ancient rome. lmk in the comments which is most annoying!! <3


End file.
